Steel Eyed Faker

Chapter 12: Save the Twisted Part 5

Beta read by Shigiya and Paragon of Awesomeness.

Happy early Valentine's day! I hope y'all will have a wonderful day with someone special, I will be busy writing and playing FGO by myself... T-T

.

.

.

-The Capital-

(Two years ago)

The towering walls of the Imperial Capital gleamed in the fading light of the afternoon sun, casting long shadows over the cobbled streets below. The grandeur of the palace looming over the city, with its sweeping spires and gilded towers, seemed to contrast sharply with the suffocating tension that lingered beneath its polished surface. 

The market square bustled with life as merchants haggled and citizens went about their daily routines, but the undercurrent of unease was impossible to ignore. The people moved quickly, their voices hushed, as if they feared even the walls might listen in on their conversations. Soldiers clad in dark armor patrolled the streets, their presence a constant reminder that the people were always in the shadow of the Empire’s control.

High above the commoners, within the areas reserved only for those of the aristocracy, the world operated under its own set of rules for them. Instead of the endless bustling of crowds, the scene there was one of comfortable silence around the manor belonging to general Nagumo. With the sound of veteran soldiers and new recruits alike practicing their swordsmanship or conversing with one another. 

A certain red-headed boy observed them from above with a detached gaze, his focus somewhere else entirely. 

The recent incident at the grand party had shaken more than a few of the city’s key players. To the unsuspecting eye, the event had passed without a hitch, filled with laughter, music, and the usual obscene displays of wealth. But beneath the surface, people already started to gossip in whispered tones about rumors concerning the Prime Minister’s son being struck by some assassin and sustaining grave injuries. 

Syura, the socialite who practically lived for lavish soirées and seedy brothels, was suddenly nowhere to be seen. His absence raised eyebrows, but the whispers didn't last long. As quickly as they spread, the rumors evaporated, snuffed out by an unseen hand. Those who dared keep talking found themselves abruptly silenced, their loose tongues tied permanently.

Even if only a few days had passed since then, it felt like weeks. 

After that, anyone who attended that party behaved as if they hadn’t the slightest idea what happened with Syura that he was no longer in the spotlight. With the nobility now firmly keeping their mouths shut about the matter and people’s short attention spans, if anything more people seemed to think Syura actually was dead, and had merely moved on from the event with little fanfare. 

With the unofficial gag order about Syura, and the man himself unable to correct the record due to being in hiding while traumatized, people were left to form their own opinions and then just as quickly forget them. 

Emiya also remained quiet for now, not eager to put on a noticeable presence and kept his head down for the meantime. He’d been anticipating retaliation from both Honest and his son, preparing to be met by a wave of soldiers knocking at their door at any moment. 

Or for some shadow figure to appear in his room, a dagger poised to slice his throat open. 

But as the days passed, both he and Najenda were surprised to find that no such thing came, and in fact there was an unusual presence of peace descending upon them for the next few days. Not that it mattered or made him feel relieved in the slightest. Emiya still remained cautious for what he saw as an inevitability rather than a possibility, simply taking the moment in between to enjoy some peace and quiet while it lasted.